


Acetone and Affection

by anaraine



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:13:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5703856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaraine/pseuds/anaraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has learned more about nailpolish than he has ever wanted to know, traveling with this girl. But he figures she's learned more about rock music than <em>she's</em> ever wanted to know, so it evens out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acetone and Affection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delta_dawn_rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delta_dawn_rose/gifts).



> So. In terms of timeline, this is about a year after Chosen, and a year before the Pilot of SPN. Buffy is 23, Dean is 25. I was actually hoping to get them into a relationship but I didn't quite get there with this piece. (And since I wasn't sure about your thoughts on pure smut, I figured I shouldn't jump into an established relationship.)

The astringent bite of acetone hits his nose the second he unlocks the motel room door. Buffy is perched on the edge of the bed, arms circling her left leg and her chin resting on her knee as she paints her toenails with a steady hand.

"Hey, Dean," she calls out, absent-minded and speaking more to her feet than to him.

He doesn't mind. He'd rather she finish painting her nails before talking to him. That way she's less likely to spill on the sheets, and then get cranky about the waste of polish.

Still. That's no excuse for the smell. "What are you doing, marinating?" He crosses the floor to throw the window up and get some fresh air in the room.

Hunting with a Slayer has certainly been an experience. Buffy is nothing like the Slayers described in Bobby's musty old books, but Dean has a feeling he wouldn't get along with them nearly as well as he does Buffy.

She's fun. She likes terrible puns and is fast to make quips. She cares about her clothes and her appearance but isn't afraid to get down and dirty - she'll just complain about it later, lamenting the destruction of her wardrobe and how hard Slaying is on shoes.

They had a rocky start, and he's sure his father wouldn't approve of her riding shotgun in the Impala, but that's the thing. John's not here, and Dean is lonely. So lonely that when Buffy gave him a black eye and a lecture about Slayers, he invited her to come with him.

(He had been sarcastic about it, actually - a sharp rejoinder to her exasperated "Don't you know _anything_?" that sounded so much like Sam that it hurt. That she took him up on the offer was a surprise to them both, he thinks. But he doesn't regret it.)

"Whatd'ya think?" Buffy asks, unfolding her leg and lifting her foot in his direction, fanning out her toes to catch his attention. They're painted a pale pink that reminds him a bit of strawberry milk, and he tells her so.

Buffy tries to frown, but he can see the smile lurking at the corners of her mouth. "It's called Heart Throb," she corrects him. "It's from the new OPI Spring Collection."

Dean has learned more about nailpolish than he has ever wanted to know, traveling with this girl. But he figures she's learned more about rock music than _she's_ ever wanted to know, so it evens out.

"Whatever floats your boat, princess," he says, pulling a chair from under the table and sitting. "So, I'm pretty sure that this is a simple salt and burn. Just need to find the dude - and I think I've got a lead: David Ehrman."

Buffy perks up and starts looking more interested. While she might outstrip him in supernatural knowledge elsewhere, Dean is the expert on ghosts. In terms of hunting, it makes a lot of sense. Ghosts are numerous, and it would be impossible to put every single one of them down. Hunters focus on the ones that are making trouble and causing deaths.

The other stuff - werewolves, hedge witches, creepy dudes breeding supernatural snakes - that's rarer. Ghosts are a dime a dozen. And with the skills Buffy has, he's not surprised that she's never had the time to go after the easy stuff. That she's interested in the process now is actually kind of fun.

"So what's our next step?"

"Make sure it's really him," Dean says, cracking his knuckles. "It would suck to dig up a grave and burn the wrong bones. I'd like to go to a party that Julian's having, see if we can take a look at the new guest house the Ehrmans are building. You mind being my sneaky arm candy?"

Buffy shrugs. "I don't mind. How fancy of a party are we talking? Gowns and tuxedos? I don't have anything that nice with me."

"It's a Valentine's Day party, and I get the feeling that we won't get in without formal wear. I swiped one of the fancy invitations that will let us in the door, but it starts at seven."

" _Tonight_?" Buffy looks wryly amused. "I'm glad I already did my nails, then. And you're paying for my dress."

Actually, Larry Marshall is going to be paying for her dress, but he's not getting into that argument right now, so all he does is nod.

"Sure, princess."


End file.
